Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
FLYNN
“What do you need, Flynn?” Ronnie asks as he steps into the living room.
Shit! I only said that to get him away from the woman I heard speaking at the door. Of the pack, he’s the worst, and with them talking about wanting a child, I knew he’d see this as an opportunity to snag a female to do it. Whether she’s an alpha, beta, or omega, it doesn’t matter, though the latter two would be easier for them to control.
“I can’t find the steaks in the freezer. Andrew wants them for dinner and I thought we had a couple packs, but it looks like we don’t.” I say a silent prayer that he doesn’t check the freezer because I know for a fact there are at least three packs inside of it.
“Fine, I’ll run to the store and get some.” He leans in, kissing me on my lips as I hold back the repulsion. I’ve learned to do it without them noticing. It’s not a price I’m willing to pay with what I have to lose.
I know my place here and I’ve accepted it. That’s the sole reason they allow me to roam freely through the house. I stay inside, I don’t answer the door or phone, and I don’t try to run. The only time I’m allowed outside the confinement of the walls of this prison is when one or more of them are with me. Those times are few and far between. I relish in the stolen moments they allow me to slip into the backyard and I get to bask in the warm rays of the sun. Even then, I’m not allowed to speak to anyone. Omegas are to be seen but never heard. You’d think I was a child or an embarrassment to them.
He takes his keys off the hook by the door and looks back at me. “Do not open this door, Omega.”
“I won’t, Alpha.” I force a smile.
“I’ll let your slip-up today slide, but if it happens again, you know what’ll happen.” With a reminder of the consequences for defying them, he leaves, making sure to lock the door from the outside.
He doesn’t have to worry; he knows he has my balls firmly gripped in his hands. I can’t and won’t go anywhere. It’s the deal I made to keep my sister safe. My life to protect hers. She deserves the chance to find mates of her own choosing, even her Kismet match. Not saddled down with the likes of the Carlisle Pack, who views omegas as property and just a warm hole. If I say anything about them holding me or try to run, they’ll take her, and with their shady contacts at the Omega Foundation, there won't be anyone to stop them.
My thoughts drift back to the beauty at the door. I still can’t believe it. A Kismet bond. Me. I have one and she’s gorgeous. Excitement swells in my chest, a fluttering, almost giddy sensation taking over as I think about her. It’s a dream come true, one that's so vivid and real that I can almost taste her, feel her arms around me. Hopeful pictures erupt in my mind.
But just as quickly, that joy is snuffed out. A dark shadow overtakes my happiness as realization settles in. Slowly at first, then all at once. It’s impossible. No matter how much I want it, her, no, it’s out of my grasp. If I want my sister safe, I have to stay where I am. It’s better for my Kismet since she seems to just be a beta. She’d never be able to protect me and she can do one thing I can’t for the pack, bear a child. It’s the main reason they haven’t bonded with me yet. They don’t want to risk anything keeping them from bonding with an omega who can give them offspring. But with her, they can have me and the children. And they'll use not only my sister, but my Kismet beta to make sure I bond with them.
My excitement dissipates, replaced by a hollow ache. The colors in my mind fade to gray, and the weight of reality presses heavily on my chest. I try to hold on to the hope, the fleeting joy, but it slips through my fingers like smoke. All that’s left is the bitter sting of longing, mingled with the dull ache of acceptance. And in that moment, the world feels a little dimmer, the air a little heavier, as I carry the burden of the quiet sorrow of what can never be.
I give myself five minutes to dream about the beauty before I need to forget about her. There’s no chance she felt the same thing I did. It was just a brief moment, and we weren’t in close proximity to each other for more than a couple of minutes. She probably didn’t even scent me. She mouthed she’d come back, but words—or looks—are easy. Actions matter. She’s a beta; there’s no way she’s going to go against a pack of alphas. Not to mention the Carlisle Pack. They’re one of the most heinous in the area and lucky me, I caught their eye.
* * *
I’ve just finished putting away the leftovers when I hear my name called.
My heart stutters, and I can feel the sweat beading on my forehead. I know without even looking from the way the voices echo into the kitchen that they’re in the bedroom. That means one thing—they want me, well, more specifically my cock. My only saving grace to my captivity is that they never go into the room that holds my nest. That space is free of anything that smells of them.
“Flynn! Get your ass in here!” is shouted this time with an added twinge of authority.
“I’m coming, Ronnie,” I yell back, knowing that one mistake is going to cost me. You never raise your voice to your alphas. It’s rule number two.
I hang the dish towel over the kitchen faucet and steel my nerves. Time to put on a show. I make my way out of the kitchen and down the hallway to their room, where I see Ronnie sitting on the bed, belt in hand. My eyes scan the room and I see Andrew at the spanking bench, a contraption I loathe. The last person to find is Bart, and he’s sprawled out on the bed, stroking his cock. All three of them naked as a jaybird with hard cocks.
The room stinks like sex and sweat, the kind of smell that makes your eyes water. Ronnie smells like old fries and grease, like he hasn’t showered in a week and thinks deodorant counts as bathing.
Andrew’s worse—he smells like mothballs and old cotton, like he’s been digging through his dead grandpa’s closet.
Bart’s scent hits me last and hardest. It’s thick and gross, like moldy bread and old gym socks left in the sun. There’s a weird sweetness to it too, like something rotting that used to be fruit.
The mix of all three of them is overwhelming. It clings to the air, to my clothes, to my skin. I almost gag. I want to light a match and burn the whole place just to get rid of it.
“You yelled at me, Omega.” Ronnie stands from the bed as he grips the belt in his hand.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, Alpha. It’s just that I was cleaning the kitchen when you called for me.” I try to reason with him, to lessen the punishment I know is waiting for me.
“You hear that, brothers? He didn’t mean to. That’s twice today you’ve stepped out of line, Flynn. I let the first go with a warning, but this time, I can’t. Get on the bench.”
I turn and step over to it. Once there, I freeze in place, as my eyes linger on the padded surface upholstered in smooth black leather. The sleek, angular design and its dark wooden frame are sturdy and imposing. The Carlisle Pack wouldn’t have it any other way.
My eyes trail over the straps—several of them, made from rich, supple leather—hanging neatly from their fixtures, each one ending in polished metal buckles. In addition to those for the wrists, calves, and ankles, two broader straps cross the middle section to secure my hips or torso, depending on their desire of the day. And all ensure complete immobilization.
The bench itself is angled, with a cushioned top that slopes slightly downward, designed to lift my hips while supporting my chest. The padded knee rests are set lower and wider apart, creating a position that’s both vulnerable and easily accessible for them to fuck me.
I stand in silence, taking it all in, my heart pounding, knowing the pending pain that’ll be inflicted upon me. My only resolve to make it through however long this is about to take is to clear my mind, drifting off to a place of nothingness.
“What are you waiting for, Omega? Get in place,” Andrew snaps, the power of his alpha bark compelling me forward as I undress, placing my clothes on the floor in the corner, then climbing onto the bench, holding perfectly still as he straps me in place. Andrew does a great job of restraining me, while Ronnie gets his thrill from delivering the punishment. And Bart? He’s a voyeur.
I inhale, blowing it out slowly. Now is the time to escape to the deepest recesses of my mind so that I can make it through what’s about to happen. The leather straps are cool and fit snugly against my body. The firm cushions press against my hips and stomach, heightening the vulnerability I’m feeling.
The air is charged, and anticipation crackles in the silence. The first stroke comes suddenly, a sharp whip of leather meeting skin. The impact sends a jolt through my body, heat blooming instantly where the belt landed. The sting is sharp, radiating outward and lingering long after the belt leaves its mark.
I clench my jaw. Crying out will only cause the punishment to last longer and there’s no way in hell I want that.
Then I hear it again. The distinct sound—a loud, snapping crack that echoes in the room, followed by the softer hiss of the belt retreating. Each strike brings a new mix of sensations: the initial sting of the leather, the deeper ache as the skin warms, and the tingling that spreads in its wake.
My breathing grows heavier, matching the thudding of my heartbeat. With every tiny shift and flinch of my body, I can hear the faint creaking of the bench and I fear that the alphas can as well. A small trace of relief overtakes me when I hear the clattering of the metal loop of the belt on the floor. But it’s just the beginning of a far greater punishment.
“Next time you disobey me, Omega, the spanking will be longer. Now it’s time for us to gain our rewards for being so gracious in our forgiveness. Luck must be on your side. Your skin broke nicely and you’ll have your blood to use as lube.” Ronnie lets out a devilish laugh as he steps in between my legs onto the block and presses the tips of his fingers into the wounds from the belt.
Don’t scream, Flynn. Don’t scream.
His fingers trail across my cheeks until he finds my asshole, rubbing around the rim in a circular motion, just before a hard cock is thrust inside of me. I bite down, my teeth piercing my tongue, and a coppery taste fills my mouth.
“Open up, Omega, time to put that mouth to work.” Andrew steps up to my head as I lift it, his cock already hard and waiting for my mouth.
You can do this Flynn; give them what they want, and they’ll be done with you. It’s time to fade away and perform on muscle memory.